The morning of Sunday, Dec. 7, when most folks in Champaign, Illinois were either still in bed or creeping their way around a town coated in ice from a recent storm, one woman was running a marathon.

She trudged through snow. She tippy-toed on ice. She waited at stoplights and jaywalked through traffic. She navigated without a course map. No start line or finish. No expo, no bib, no medal.

“It was the most bootstrap version of a marathon you can have,” she told me a few days after. “I broke all the rules.”

It was completely unplanned – and perfectly timed. Sixteen months before to the day, Tasha Dunaway ran the first of a 16-marathon streak that would take her to eight states and three countries, and through some highs of accomplishment and demoralizing lows – and back up again. Tasha is my friend and training partner. I heard much of her 16-marathon story as it unfolded and even took part in her 14th race (Chicago Marathon in October) but I wanted to hear it all together in her own words.

So here it is. Sixteen months, sixteen marathons. One inspiring runner.

Question: What did you do? Would  you describe your quest?

On September 7, 2024, I ran my first attempt to qualify for the Boston Marathon. It was my third marathon ever, and the first marathon after a break from running.

For my age group, a Boston Marathon qualifying time was 3:40, but I knew I needed a buffer. Squeaking in at 3:33:19, I made the minimum Boston qualifying time, and the stretch goal advised by the pace team. However, I missed an acceptance to run the Boston Marathon by a mere 10 seconds. My dream to run Boston would have to wait another year.

I wanted to maintain my fitness, and marathon training had provided a great outlet for some personal things I was working through at the time. After nine months of training to become race ready, I was less interested in slowing down than in maintaining what I had worked so hard to achieve. So I decided to combine my love of travel and running for a season of racing tourism.

Itineraries started to come together, and before I knew it, I had plans to run a marathon-a-month for four months straight. Loving this opportunity to broaden my running community while maintaining fitness, I planned races around visits to faraway friends or family. At first I only signed up for a couple of races at a time – I didn’t want to overcommit in case an injury sidelined me. As time went on, I felt good, so I kept going. And then, I kept going. And going. Until, finally, I wondered what would make me stop.

Q: Where did this quest take you?

A: The two international races I ran, one in the United Kingdom (Chester Marathon, race #2) and one in Iceland (Reykjavik Marathon, race #12), are probably the best locations from a tourism perspective. These faraway races brought seaside vistas, castles and old Roman cities, volcanoes and geothermal lagoons, and whale watching added to an already exhilarating race experience. Aside from those locations, I visited seven states around the U.S: Indiana, Texas, Florida, Missouri, Washington, Wisconsin, and Kentucky.

Q: Why did you do this? Did your reasons evolve as you went?

A:  I began this journey as a way to show up and say ‘YES’ to creating the best version of myself that I could be. I had been putting personal goals on hold for some time, and every training day allowed me to feel like a slightly better version of myself. Racing provided opportunities to create personal records and enjoy the community of runners while traveling along the way. I felt compelled to go out into the world and meet other runners and to experience places on foot.

Q: Who else appears in this story?

A: Family and friends, or even newly minted running friends were along for nearly every race. A few friends in the UK, one a former work colleague who I’d never met in person before and another who visits the States regularly were a big part of race #2 in October 2024. My cousin and his son were alongside me for my marathon PR in race #3 (November 2024, Indianapolis Monumental Marathon).

While in Dallas in December of 2024, I met Paul Box, finisher of the 7 7 7 (7 Marathons on 7 Continents in 7 Days), and had an inspirational conversation with him. In January, a friend I’d met at race #1 was also in Houston, and we shared the race experience together. In February, I connected with friends still living in South Florida when I ran the A1A Marathon. In March, I raced just an hour from my sister’s new pizza restaurant and enjoyed a visit to see her.

April was my hometown race, the Illinois Marathon, and it was shared with parkrun friends, my running buddy, and local friends. In May I ran a race in Illinois with another parkrun friend. In June, I ran in St. Charles, MO and met up with my cousin who lives nearby. In July I visited Washington state, and a friend who lives nearby was slated to meet with me, but ended up being unable to do so, but she messaged me in support and made recommendations for my visit. In August a travel buddy came with me to Iceland.

In September, I sneaked away for a last minute trip to Wisconsin and wasn’t able to share that with anyone, but then in October I was able to share the entire Chicago Marathon experience with my running partner, a welcome change to my typical solo travels! And I made an unexpected connection during the Louisville Marathon in November, one that helped me get through it.

Q: How did you pull this off physically?

A: My workout routine was very consistent. Three days a week, I work on total body strength by lifting weights in a circuit at the gym, and one day a week I do total body strength and flexibility with Pilates. I typically run five days a week, though I would say my running routine has suffered the most after Fall of 2024 when racing really picked up. I’ve alternated recovery cycles with a moderate running routine in between races. I referenced the Marathon Maniacs running plan for the multi-race training cycle.

 Q: How do you think you’ve changed as a marathoner and as a person in the past 12 months?

A: The preparation for the marathon can be daunting, but repetition is helpful. It’s not as scary anymore to stand in the starting corrals. I think at times it becomes tempting to compare yourself to other runners, and that always gives me anxiety, even today. But, even if the race isn’t pretty, now I have confidence that I can finish. Most days that’s all I’m trying to achieve. There are a lot of little lessons you learn in the repetition that you only get through experience, and I do think you learn a lot about yourself, but that is taking me some time to really appreciate. I’m not sure I’m far enough from it quite yet.

Q: What was the hardest thing about running one marathon every month? And what was the most rewarding thing?

A: Every race reminds me that the marathon is a challenge. I love feeling how difficult it is, despite doing one a month. It does get easier, but it is never easy. The marathon has been used as a metaphor for life’s journey, and I think appropriately so. The course is always different and it always teaches you something.

Some races were small and isolated and no one came to cheer. Personally, my friends have come to support, but my family has never attended a race, so it’s always so touching for me to see families cheering in the crowd. Compared to the smaller races, the Chicago Marathon brought a wall of noise and joyful cheering the entire 26.2 miles. The energy of each location is so different.

Over these races, I sat with first-timers who were so scared to run they vomited. I consoled friends with anxiety so strong they had to drop out of a race they’d been training for over months. I saw people being loaded onto gurneys time and time again and felt gratitude for my health. During a race, people help one another. They prop up their friends, or they help strangers in need. It is tough. It is sweaty and dirty and gritty, and it is so very human.

The challenge of it is, it’s already hard, and so much can go wrong, but the beauty of it is that the human spirit endures. It’s powerful, and it’s beautiful.

Q: Did you have any moments when you thought you might break your steak?

I left for the Louisville Marathon on Nov. 1 and I experienced a flood of emotions that day. The entire drive, I questioned my motivation and whether or not I should run. Why was I still running? I nearly turned around before getting on the interstate. Then at the next exit. And the next. I made a pit stop and again questioned how I’d feel to go back home.

I picked up my bib and did my pre-race ritual of driving to the start line the day before. It didn’t feel like usual. I wasn’t excited, nor imagining myself running the race or doing much else besides going home. I just wanted to be done. I messaged friends who knew I was running, and they were all supportive. “You don’t have to do this!” they echoed.

But I’d already paid. What was the point in backing out? I’d wait until morning and call it then. I had trouble falling asleep until I allowed myself to consider dropping down the half marathon.

Early race day, I decided to drive to the race start and ask about the half marathon. There, I met another runner. “What distance are you running?” I ask her. “The marathon” she replied, “I was supposed to run it with my friend, but she bailed on me.”

After chatting with my new friend and discussing all the reasons I didn’t want to run today – any distance at all – I asked if I could run with her. I said I needed someone to keep me company, and I’d happily pace her if she let me. After a quick trip back to get my race fuel and belt, we were off to the start corrals together. “There’s just this one thing I have to do, and then I can go home” I thought to myself.

My friend didn’t think she could break a six hour marathon, but I paced her for around 4:30, and she stayed with me like a champ. After 23 miles together, we both ran our own race for the last 5k, and high five at the end, celebrating with Derby Pie and the pride of what we accomplished that day, together.

There has never been a time when I felt less like I could run a race – of any distance. This isn’t a feeling I’ve ever had before. It wasn’t nervousness about the race itself, but rather something inside me pulling my attention elsewhere. My motivation wasn’t there until I had someone to help me stay present. Typically, I think of race day as a celebration of training, and it was a celebration for my new friend. She allowed me to celebrate her accomplishment in real time as I heard her footsteps beside me. I didn’t want to be alone, and her presence made me feel comfortable and purposeful.

Race day provides a number of opportunities to witness the human spirit. To see what everyday people can accomplish is truly inspiring. Usually I get to witness the human spirit, but that day I felt it inside me. I needed a friend, and I got to be one too. The community of runners is a special one, and that day I got to experience something I’ve never felt before, and I won’t soon forget it.

Q: What advice would you give to someone considering this challenge or a similar long-term project?

A: Focus on overall strength and consistency and don’t let the final goal be so intimidating that it prevents you from doing the daily work. Remember that to get to the end, all you have to do is the workout for today. Benchmarks are good. Share your goals for accountability. And take it a little at a time; I only signed up for one race at a time near the end of my streak in case my body needed more rest or in case of injury.

Q: What comes next for you and running? I hear you got exciting news from the Boston Athletic Association.

A: Yes, I got into the 130th running of the Boston Marathon in 2026! I think I’ll take a break from racing full marathons to focus on training for Boston. I may do a few half marathons as part of that training.

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Tasha told me that her last marathon of the streak, run last Sunday around the streets of Champaign, will be special for many reasons.

“Something magical happened,” she said. “Even after running a marathon a month for the 15 prior months, I still woke up and WANTED to run. More than that, I NEEDED to run. It feels like the most appropriate way to end a marathon streak by taking the typical marathon rules and smashing them all. The marathon to end my streak wasn’t a race. It was a celebration of endurance and joy that comes from waking up with an urge to RUN.”